Intervention
by Britedark
Summary: Rin really wants to ask Sesshomaru to do something, but she's reluctant to ask him. What is the favor, and what is his reaction? Takes place about four years after the end of the manga.


**Disclaimer: **This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

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><p><strong>Intervention<strong>

Rin was usually a quite calming and pleasant creature to be around. It didn't matter if she were chattering, singing, or matching him for silence: he preferred her presence to her non-presence.

But, not today.

She was quiet, but only in her voice. She was not playing in the meadow, or working on some task or other. Sesshomaru had to shift through a number of unfamiliar words before he finally found one that described her.

Fidgety.

She kept looking at him, then away. She could not seem to stay still, shifting position from moment to moment. When she looked at him, he noticed from the corner of his eye, she either opened her mouth, as if to say something, or bit her lip, before looking away.

This was _not_ his Rin.

And she was beginning to annoy him.

That was not to be allowed.

The youkai looked up through the branches of the tree he was sitting under. "This Sesshomaru observes that the Rin wishes to speak," he informed the sky. "This Sesshomaru has no objection to listening."

He felt and heard her twitch, but kept his gaze on the shifting light through the green leaves. "Umm … this Rin wishes to ask Sesshomaru-sama for … for a … um … for a big favor!"

"The Rin is always free to ask as she wishes," he observed, keeping his puzzlement hid. He did not, of course, suggest that he might do what she wanted. But, he could not think of anything she might want. Other to resume traveling with him: but she had stopped asking that some time ago.

He heard a deep breath, and then an explosion of words came forth. "Kagome-sama was crying yesterday, and she said that Inuyasha-sama hasn't touched her for moons and moons, ever since the baby was born dead and he blames himself for it, even though she tells him and tells him that it's not his fault, she said he keeps finding excuses and running away, and I know he's not happy, he hasn't smiled or laughed in a really long time, and you're his brother, his older brother, and can't you talk to him and tell him it's not his fault, and help him and make him happy again?"

… … …

The waning moon was rising. Sesshomaru watched it rise from his position on a mountaintop, and still felt unnerved.

He was not sure he could imagine anything harder, than what Rin had asked of him that afternoon. It should be flattering, he supposed, that the girl believed in him so utterly, that she would ask for such a thing.

But, his main reaction had been relief that no one else had heard her request.

How could he possibly help the hanyo, assuming he wanted to? Perhaps he and the hanyo no longer fought with intent to harm or kill, but they were not friends, let alone confidants. Why should it matter to him, if Inuyasha foolishly blamed himself for the loss of a newborn pup? As foolish, as if he were to blame himself for the death of his litter-mates…

A cold breeze seemed to blow through his soul, as a memory came to him. Himself, as a lonely, sulky pup, learning for the first time that he _had_ litter-mates, but they had died within days of being born. Himself, demanding of his parents, to know why they hadn't saved his litter-mates, so he could've had playmates, and the flash of pain from his mother, and rage from his father. Only a flash, though the rage had terrified him for a moment, before the two adults had controlled their reactions. His father, he recalled, was the one who had explained that sometimes pups were born which were simply too weak to survive, and that even taiyoukai could not change that fate.

He had tried to bury that memory—his first acquaintance with the fact that his parents weren't all-powerful—but, obviously not successfully.

But, what did it matter? He had no responsibility for Inuyasha's happiness. And why would the hanyo ever listen to him, anyway?

Except _Rin_ wanted him to try.

Tensaiga shivered, just perceptively.

Sesshomaru tried not to grit his teeth. There was one other who would want him to try.

_Will you never be content, father?_

He had never forgotten his father's opinions on a more powerful sibling's responsibility to a lesser…

_Curse him._

… … …

Kaede had warned him not to look.

He had insisted.

Inuyasha huddled on a high branch of a tree; that terrible image refusing to disappear. He was not in Goshinboku: everyone knew they could find him there, so he had retreated deep into the woods.

He knew he shouldn't be here, hiding away, brooding. It was wrong. Kagome deserved better from him. She'd abandoned an entire life for him. He had promised himself, when she came back to him—_to __him!__—_that he would do anything for her, forever.

But, she wanted to try again for a child, and he couldn't bear the thought. She had miscarried twice. What the first one had been like, he didn't know. But, the second had been a monster. A twisted, distorted, horrifying meld of inu-youkai and human that could never have lived.

It was his fault. All of it. His mixed blood. He was only a hanyo. He couldn't give Kagome the perfect; dog-eared children she wanted. Couldn't give her the pure-blooded, human children that she could have had in her own time. He should never have let her love him. Never had hoped to have her return. His fault. His. His.

A massive flare of youkai jerked Inuyasha to an upright position. He leaped out of the tree, fleeing. There was no way he was going to let himself be lectured by Sesshomaru. He'd been avoiding his half-brother for moons. The taiyoukai might no longer desire his death, but the hanyo had no doubts what his oh-so-superior brother would say about his inability to sire a healthy, living child. And he didn't want to hear it: couldn't bear to have his brother confirm everything his own mind had been telling him over and over. Worthless; worse than worthless, disgusting, dirty-blooded, shameful, unworthy of love, unworthy of having a future, unworthy of living—hanyo, hanyo, _hanyo!_

But, he could no more outrun his brother, than he could outrun his own thoughts. Though Inuyasha tried, running and jumping, plunging through forests and vaulting over fields. Day faded into night, and the pursuit continued, relentless, just behind his heels, though never overtaking. Thought and fear faded under the pressure of physical strain, until Inuyasha staggered into a clearing, and in the first halfway coherent thought in hours, turned and drew his sword.

Sesshomaru landed nearly at the edge of the clearing, sweat-free, with neither hair nor silk out of place. Gasping for breath, Inuyasha made his best effort at a snarl. "Leave me – alone!" he panted. "I—don't—want to—listen!"

"You think you know what I want to speak with you about, little brother?"

"Don't—care!" Inuyasha raised Tessaiga with both trembling arms. "Go—away!"

He didn't even see Sesshomaru move.

… … …

Icy air woke him up. Inuyasha gasped, opened his eyes, and stared down at dawn-lit mountains. _What __the __hell?_ Discrete pressure points pinioned his body. Craning his head, he managed a look to the side, and realized, with a shock, that he was being carried in the mouth of a huge, white dog.

_Sesshomaru._

"Let me go!" He yelled.

The dog growled, sending vibrations through the teeth pressing against him. He tried to wriggle, groping for his sword, then yelped in pain as the teeth bore down. The canine teeth might not be able to pierce through his fire-rat, but the pressure was more than his ribs or back could take for long. Exhausted, Inuyasha went limp, unable even to swear. He tried to keep defiance in his mind, but even that was impossible. His mind could not hold thoughts and drifted, as his body concentrated on trying to breathe in the thin, frigid air.

He didn't really rouse again until he discovered someone holding a cup to his mouth. _Water._ His parched tissues demanded relief, and he drained the cup, and then four more. Panting after the last cup, he stared downward, noting that he was sitting on a floor of smoothed rock.

And that he was surrounded by youki. Most sources were minor, strangely identical, and imbued with no perceptible emotion or strength. But, behind him was the still, constrained aura that said 'Sesshomaru,' while somewhere in front of him, only somewhat less powerful, was another. One whom he had never met…

"So, little hanyo." The voice was feminine, silky smooth, and sounded just slightly amused. "Are you recovered yet from your attempt to evade my son?"

He raised his heavy head. Perhaps four lengths in front of him was a white-haired inu-youkai, sitting on a one-armed throne. Her golden eyes were watching him, and above them, was a crescent moon, identical to his half-brother's.

Only exhaustion kept his body where it was. "L-lady?" he managed to say, wondering what possible reason Sesshomaru had for bringing him here. Meeting his brother's mother had certainly never been one of his ambitions. "What—why am I here?"

She sighed, leaning her cheek against her hand, her elbow propped up on the arm of the throne that looked to be made of gold.

"I do quite fear that my son has grown a heart much too compassionate for a proper taiyoukai," she said with a mild pout. "However, the price he will pay for asking this favor of me should prove to be quite entertaining." Her smile was aimed above his head.

Inuyasha blinked at her, confused. "I don't… understand…"

"Having tried to evade your brother for most of a day and a night, I'm not surprised, little hanyo." Her focus was back on him; her smile thinned. "I dare say, that had you his stamina, you would quite match your father for stubbornness."

Inuyasha looked away, uncomfortable as he felt reminded that this was the youkai his father had abandoned to love his human mother.

"That was a compliment, boy, not an insult."

His discomfort only increased. He didn't understand why he was here. He didn't _want_ to understand. He just wanted to go somewhere he could not think, not feel, and not care.

"Sesshomaru informs me that your mate bore a stillborn pup."

Inuyasha snapped his head up, paling. "It wasn't her fault!" He said. "It—it was my fault, because I'm just a hanyo—"

"Oh, nonsense, boy!" she scoffed, straightening up, leaning forward. "Do you somehow think that you and your mate are the only two in the world to suffer that kind of pain? Do you?"

Inuyasha stared at her, mouth agape, mind going blank. Long moments passed before his brain could process the implications of what that beautiful, powerful youkai had implied.

"You?" he managed to whisper.

"I bore a litter of four pups," she said, eyes cold. "Only Sesshomaru survived."

He stared at her, mind still trying to comprehend what he had just learned. Sesshomaru's mother was an image of perfection, as was Sesshomaru himself. Always, Inuyasha had measured himself against his brother, and had found himself—though admitting only to himself—that he was lesser. Imperfect. Kagome herself was pure and beautiful: not perfect, of course, but closer to that state than himself. Therefore, it must be his fault—and only his fault—that their offspring should be a stillborn monster…

"Father…" he whispered finally. "What … when … when he found out … what did he…"

"He cherished them while they lived," she said promptly, "mourned their passing, and saw no fault save that of chance."

Inuyasha looked down, almost dizzy with this abrupt change in his knowledge of the world. Silence surrounded him as he struggled with the concept, with the thought that maybe—just maybe—it wasn't his fault.

But, a different thought came to him presently. "You never had more pups?" He asked, not looking up. "Is that why father—"

"What happened between me and your sire is none of your business, little hanyo," she interrupted, voice frigid. "His dalliance with a mortal was no concern of mine."

The ice in her voice suggested it might have been otherwise, but Inuyasha had no desire to argue with her. He whispered an apology.

She harrumphed. "You are but young and silly, little hanyo." He reddened a little. "I believe I've said enough, Sesshomaru. Do be a good boy and take him back to his mate? And do remember to listen for my call…"

Inuyasha felt Sesshomaru transforming behind him, and belatedly scrambled to his feet. He had no chance to escape, however, and found himself again held ignominiously in the inu-youkai's mouth. "Damn it, Sesshomaru!" He yelled, as the palace fell away from him. "You could at least let me ride on your back!"

The dog only laughed at him.

… … …

Kagome curled up on the futon, scared and desperately worried. Inuyasha had vanished. Sango and Miroku had invited her to stay with them, but she had refused. If Inuyasha returned—no, _when_ he returned, he would find her here, waiting.

If only he hadn't been so upset and depressed the last few moons. If only she could believe that he simply gone off after a youkai to fight, or something. If only he would come back. Please, kami, don't let anything happen to him! Not now! She wanted him back, wanted his arms around her, wanted his loving her, being with her. Yes, she mourned the loss of their baby, but she didn't want it to be the end of their world. Why couldn't he understand that he wasn't to blame, why wouldn't he come back to her?

A wave of youki rolled overhead. Kagome sat upright, recognizing it, and wondered what Sesshomaru was doing in the area. The youki faded rapidly and disappeared. Shivering a little, she wondered what was going on. Was Sesshomaru looking for Inuyasha? Oh, please, let that be the case! Inuyasha wouldn't be able to hide for long, if his brother were searching for him. And, even if she hadn't quite forgiven Sesshomaru for his little 'test' three years ago, she knew that the taiyoukai would bring Inuyasha back to her, if he found him.

Kagome had lain down again in her lonely bed, feeling a little bit better, when a step sounded on the porch. She sat up, feeling wary and tense. The shoji slid back, and she scrambled to her feet, slipping towards the wall where her bow and her quiver were stored.

"Ka-go-me?"

"Inuyasha!" She bolted to the main room, stopping when she saw the dripping wet figure of her mate leaning against the door. "What happened? Where did you go?"

"Sesshomaru … happened." Pushing himself upright, the hanyo released his hold on the door and took a staggering step forward. "Ka—kagome?"

"Yes?" She went to him, only tentatively touching his arm. She wanted to gather him in her arms and take care of him, but she was painfully aware of how he had flinched from her touch for moons.

Abruptly, he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry!" he said, starting to cry. "I'm so sorry, Kagome, I didn't mean—I'm sorry! Forgive me, please forgive me!"

Kagome hugged him back, not minding the cold water soaking into her yukata. "Of course, I forgive you," she whispered. Releasing one arm, she reached up and pulled on a snarled, sopping wet hank of hair. "As soon as you kiss me."

He gave her more than that. And if he dripped all over the futon, and fell asleep on her; if it took hours of patient combing and prompting to get the entire story out of him: that was fine with her, for her hanyo was with her again.

And that was what she wanted most.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This piece was written for a the prompt "Running Away" for the "At First Tweak" LiveJournal community. It was originally posted on July 31, 2011. (11/3/2011)

This is part of the "Bound to Tomorrow" (post-canon) set, though I've chosen to post it as a separate piece. This one-shot takes place about four years after Kagome's return. As I reference in several places in the serial, in my version of post-canon, Kagome suffered two miscarriages, the second one fairly late in the pregnancy, before giving birth to Aimiko, a daughter.


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